Justice and Truth
by Tarafina
Summary: With reflection comes truth, with truth comes clarity, and with clarity two people may just mend themselves and each other.


**Title**: Justice and Truth  
**Category**: Smallville**  
Rating**: T**  
Genre**: Romance/Drama/Humor**  
Ship**: Chloe/Oliver**  
Word Count**: 2,159**  
Summary**: With reflection comes truth, with truth comes clarity, and with clarity two people may just mend themselves and each other.

**_Justice and Truth  
_**1/1

_"When'd you become one of the bad guys, huh?"_

It kept repeating in her head, over and over again, like the never-ending song that wouldn't let her rest. _Her?_ The bad guy? There were so many things wrong with that statement it literally tore her up inside. Her whole life had been spent trying to find the truth of things, to bring justice to those who deserved it. And for what? To make one wrong move and be labeled the very thing she fought against time and again? And _him?_ Who was he to lash out at her?

Pacing, she chewed her lip viciously, balled fists at her sides clenching tightly as if to wring his neck. And he would deserve it, too! After all that had happened, his part in the less-than-stellar-heroics of 2009, he had no right to call shame down on her head. She'd been doing what she thought was _right, _what she thought would help others. It wasn't as if—

She stopped suddenly, brow furrowing.

But that was just it, wasn't it?

What was right to one person might not be to another. He'd lectured her not a few weeks prior about how the death of Lex Luthor, at his hands no less, was a favor to the world. And she hadn't disagreed; couldn't, really. But all the same, she wanted to rebel. Death was death; murder was murder. And justice… it was never black and white, much as so many of them wished it could be. Lex was dead. Davis was dead. _Jimmy _was dead. And she stood angry not at Lex, her lifetime rival, a man who'd forever be the beginning and end to all evil; even in death he managed to play a part in the roles of lives wishing they'd never met him. Part of her blamed Davis and whatever it was that made even the kindness in him dark. And then Jimmy, her quirky husband who seemed to stand on the outside of her life, pleading for her to let him in. There were a million different things that could have been done differently but when it came down to it, they hadn't been. Life was as it was, as she made it.

Her cousin was missing, her arch-nemesis dead, her best friend off to rid himself of human emotion, her husband was buried six feet under, and… And what? What was there now? Anger. She lived, thrived and breathed it in. Retribution, pain, vengeance and blame. But who was it really directed at? Much as she wanted to say Oliver she hadn't said one word to him since that fateful night. He'd told her, he'd warned her so seriously that she couldn't save Davis. And she hadn't listened, _wouldn't_ listen. But he'd trusted her, hadn't he? When he reached out to stop her from going to the man she thought at one time she could love even more than Jimmy and she touched him, pleaded silently for him to understand, Oliver had. With all of his heroic nature going against him, he'd let her _try_. And when it blew up in her face he was the one to drag her away from it all, only to risk the world so he wouldn't hurt her, even knowing what she could be unleashing on them all.

But still, all these months she'd blamed him for it all.

Her – a bad guy. _Never_.

But was she _truly _a good guy? Were any of them, really?

She sighed, her fingers rubbing soothing circles against her temples.

Every ounce of anger slowly drained from her, leaving her in a boneless heap of sorrow. Two months with nothing but anger to take refuge in and now she didn't even have that to fall back on. She fell to her knees, buried her face in her hands, but she didn't weep, didn't cry or sob or beg for a different outcome. Instead, she breathed in, centered herself, blinked back the stinging of her eyes and told herself that now was when she'd take hold of her destiny. No more holding back. Maybe she was alone, maybe those she'd loved and trusted weren't there, but what good was she doing here, away from it all?

She may not be a good guy or even a bad guy, but damn it that didn't mean she'd stop doing whatever she could to be what she knew herself to be. A justice-seeker; truth, above all else.

There was ringing; her Watchtower comm. It hadn't made a sound since before Jimmy and Davis and the whole debacle. But now, as if it'd heard her thoughts, it rung shrilly, demanding attention.

She rose from the ground, adjusted her clothes, and walked slowly toward her desk. Plucking the ringing earpiece up, she held it in place. "Watchtower," she said, voice level, deadly, serious in her profession.

"Wasn't sure you'd pick up," Arrow's reply came through clearly, an edge of surprise lacing his tone.

She rolled her eyes. "Then why'd you call?"

"Curiosity."

"It killed a cat, you're not far off."

He laughed deeply. "Is that a threat, Sidekick?"

A pang in her chest reminded her of what it was like to banter; it seemed like ages ago. "Are you scared, Arrow?"

"Knowing you as well as I do, I wouldn't want to incur your wrath," he stated simply and after a long pause added sincerely, "And I hope I haven't."

Had he called just minutes ago she'd be tearing him a new one and making sure he felt every ounce of misery she'd fed off of these last couple months. But now, she couldn't. While she'd blindly blamed him all this time, reality was that he hadn't come away unscathed. He may have played the uncaring hero who did it all for the betterment of the world, but she'd seen the sorrow and regret in his eyes.

"That depends on whether or not you'll have coffee on when I get there."

She could practically hear his smile as it curled his once stoic lips. "Two months without word, I was beginning to think you'd handed in your hero status."

"You didn't call," she replied easily enough.

"You weren't ready."

She flinched but the truth was obvious enough. "And how do you know I am now?"

He paused for only a moment of contemplation. "Because much as you don't want to admit it, you and I aren't so dissimilar, Sidekick… And I figured if I was starting to recover, maybe you were too."

It was rare to get such blatant honesty from a man who kept his truth close to heart, but she heard it clearly in his voice now. "And how is your recovery coming?"

"Slowly… but surely."

Turning, she rested her hips against her desk, her shoulders slumping slightly. "It's not easy," she murmured with more emotion than she cared to show at the moment.

"My mother had a saying…"

Her brows rose; his parents were a subject never shared.

"What's easy is never remembered and has no bearing on your life. But what you have to work for shows in every fiber of your character."

She smiled slightly, sadly. "And what is my character? For that matter, what's yours?"

"That's just it; we haven't finished working at it yet."

She nodded to herself. "Do you think when we do, we'll be the good guys?"

He sighed with the same heavy responsibility she felt day in and day out. "I think we've labeled ourselves enough for one lifetime. For now, for a while even, let's just be us… Whoever we are."

She grinned, blinking away appreciative tears. "I think I'd like that."

"Good. And is this you that I don't quite know yet interested in a late cup of coffee and a few files worthy of your skills?"

She sniffed in soft laughter. "I think I can make some time for that."

"You'll have to, I'm not taking no for an answer."

Rolling her eyes lightheartedly, she shook her head. "You going to send your Queen helicopter over with strict orders for the pilot not to leave without me?" she teased.

"No. But you should know better than most than I'm incredibly persistent."

Before she could reply there was a knock at the door. "Hold on." Padding across the room, she tucked her hair behind her ear and reached out to unlock the three deadbolts lining the side of her door. As she opened it she was greeted with the smirking visage of the one and only Oliver Queen. He closed his communicator with an audible click and then stuffed his hands in his pockets in a rare display of discomfort.

Lifting a brow, she leaned against the frame of her door. "How'd you know I'd say yes?"

He shrugged. "I came prepared with various groveling techniques."

"Oh yeah?"

"First I considered numerous gifts, ranging from a lifetime supply of coffee to the top-of-the-line in computers… Then I considered making a very public, very embarrassing apology. I also wrote a few thousand emails that might make you forgive me, or in the very least stop sending your SPAM in my direction." He cocked a brow. "Don't think I didn't know that was you."

She remained facially stoic but laughed inwardly. All right, so what little revenge she had taken was in the form of Penis Enlargement ads that he likely didn't need but could at least bring a short smile to her lips on the rare occasion she hassled him these last couple months.

With a quirk of his mouth, he continued, "The list goes on. But then I realized that most of those things don't have half the heart in them they needed so instead… I thought I'd come see you and tell you personally that I'm sorry for what happened and my part in it and I hope that as much as it has changed both of us, it won't change the friendship and trust we were building together." He stared earnestly at her. "You're one of the few people in this world that I would trust with my life and I'd like to remain the same for you."

Licking her lips, she nodded, blinking her eyes rapidly to relieve the stinging. "You have pretty good timing," she admitted gently. "Any earlier and I probably would've kicked your arrogant, heroic butt."

He grinned slowly. "This mean you'll gimme another chance?"

"Only if you promise to do the same." Holding out her hand, she looked up at him with sincere hope. "A blank slate, fresh start and every other clichéd beginning there is."

Taking her hand, he held on tight and didn't let go as quickly as was custom. "For the record… you were never a bad guy. I just didn't want to see you walk the same path I was and I could see you heading in that direction."

"I know… I just realized that and you know… Maybe nobody is as good as we want to be. But it's the trying that makes us better."

They stared at one another a moment, taking in the sincerity and truth in one another's words before finally he broke the seriousness with a grin. "How about that coffee?"

"You're buying?"

Drawing her out of her apartment, he slung an arm around her shoulders. "I think I can spare the money, but only if you enlighten me to exactly _what _is so great about this almond mocha you like so much…"

Grinning widely, she snugly wrapped her arm around his waist. "Almond mocha with extra whip, Queen, get it right."

"My apologies," he chuckled.

"Fair warning, I'm about to blow your mind."

"Of that I have no doubt…" he murmured genuinely. "If there's anyone capable, Miss Sullivan, it's _you_."

Lifting a brow, she smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was meant as one."

"Good. Because leather or no leather, I can still take you."

Oliver smirked. "Is that a threat?"

With a wink, she told him, "You better hope you never find out."

Laughing, he squeezed her shoulder and directed her down the hall toward the elevator.

With the rage left behind her and the sorrow slowly ebbing, Chloe was on the mend. And with a friend there to help her along, one as much in need as she was, she had a feeling that good things were on the horizon. Regardless of titles like good and bad, they were heroes in the making and she knew better than anyone that the two of them had it in them to be amongst the greats. They may not save the world from all that plagued it, but they sure as hell would die trying to. Just him and her, Chloe and Oliver, Green Arrow and Watchtower, a couple of justice-seekers that weren't incapable of mistakes but had learned from them instead. And if the truth was out there, they would find it.


End file.
